The Perennial ones
by Qwertymonkey
Summary: She's thrust into a world she didn't know existed. Her own ripped away from her, in the middle of nowhere, with someone who's never encountered anything other than running. Shit Summary. Ha Give It A Go, Have Fun :P
1. Prologue

**This is my first. I don't have high expectations, and pre warning. I can be incredibly lazy, thought it'd try it out, so pre story. I apologize. I may not be able to update, or continue, I may lose track I'm not sure. I Don't Own Skins, or Their Characters, but all mistakes are mine.  
Pairing: Naomily  
Summary: She's thrust into a world she didn't know existed. He own ripped away from her, in the middle of nowhere, with only one unlikely person by her side. Shit Summary. Ha Have Fun :P **

"No!" I can't help begging. Screaming. He yells at me to shut up. But I can't help myself. I see the look of disgust in his deep blue eyes, He's always looked at me like that, no matter what I did. He blames me. I know that. I always have known that. It's always been me and him, but he didn't want that. I heard from my uncle… well my father's best friend more like that he ran away once he found out my mother was pregnant. But my uncle chased him down and told him to take responsibility. So he did just that, at first that was his plan anyway. I don't hear much about it. But I do know I'm blamed for my mothers' death. He reminds me enough when he's drunk. Which I must add. Is always.

He doesn't listen to me as I scream at him. Tears staining my face as he tells me to be quite whilst he throws his empty beer bottle at the wall behind my head. My wrists chafe against the rough rope. And my arse hurts from sitting on the cold concrete floor, no way in hell would I every willingly come here, you can't see shit three feet in front of you. My head pounding as everything else dulls. I can't deal with this. I can't help to continue sobbing as he waits for something. For them I guess. I'm not sure what they are. All I know is that my whole world, is being ripped from under me. He screams at me to shut up, but knowing I won't the next beer bottle he throws is aimed at my head. And everything else fades.


	2. Chapter 1

**This is my first fic. I don't have high expectations, and pre warning. I can be incredibly lazy, thought it'd try it out, so pre story. I apologize. I may not be able to update, or continue, I may lose track I'm not sure. I Don't Own Skins, or Their Characters, but all mistakes are mine. Same as before, yeah. Um this is short, but I'm just starting I guess, I don't know if this is going to be that long, I have no idea. But. Enjooooyyy**

An unbearable dull pain shoots through my head as I drift into consciousness. Everything's fuzzy, I don't know where I am exactly. I can feel the blood rushing in my head, as if something is inside my skull trying to break out. My arms feel like lead as I attempt to reach out, touch something. Eventually after three tries I have a little bit of strength back, swinging my arm to my side clashing with a cold wall. My face has a look of pure confusion as I stretch both hands out only to come into contact on both side.

Fear grips me in an instance as I attempt to bolt upright.

"BANG"

'Oh fuck!' Fucking hell! What the fuck was that! That fucking hurt. I slowly collect my bearings, but I can't see anything. Can't remember much at all. But what I can tell is I'm stuck. In. A. Fucking. METAL BOX. 'What the fuck!' I smash my hands into the walls around me. 'This Isn't Fucking Funny I'll Have You Know! Get Me The Fuck Out Of Here I Swear To God!' I roll to my side 'Oh shit!' and I fall. Everything's flying pass me. Everything I found out, and everything that happened played before my eyes like a movie. It was like I wasn't even there. not really, I could see myself, see what's happened. But from above. I could see my peroxide blood hair streaked with red as the bottle comes into contact with my head and I slump to the floor. Then everything stops. I'm feel like I'm floating. I can't feel the pain in my head, or side. Although I think my ribs ended up getting fractured when he intentionally dragged me across the floor.

I slowly sit up, everything around me morphs and changes. Trees sprout out from the ground, my back comes into contact with leaves, and twigs as far as the eye can see. And all I can do is curl up into a foetal position. And start sobbing. How long i'm not sure, time seemed endless. It didn't matter anyway. For all I know lying in a ditch somewhere. Everybody's happy. Everyone but me...

There are no birds. No little critters in this forest. No sound. The wind moves around through the trees. I struggle to my feet, eyes dried out, and rubbed red. Something moves swiftly though the trees. My head, as stubborn as I am wanted to follow it. But it was headed straight towards me, sending chills from my head to my toes.

They said 'run!'

It started getting closer as it weaved through the trees.

'Run!'

And then it sees me. Stopping dead in it's tracks. It looks at me bloodthirsty. It looks at me, and I listen. My whole body screams.

'RUN!"

So I do. The opposite way of course you pillock. I'm not fucking run towards the thing.

Branches whip passed my ears. They thicken the more I run, whipping my skin, shedding blood. They start to lose their leaves the further I run, the faster I run. Until it didn't.

I land fast first into the ground, my ankles caught. I scream out, it fucking hurts. I flip myself over but I can't see my foot. But then I shift forward, but I didn't move. Then it tugs.

'What the fuck!' And it tugs again. Everything around me starts shaking, and moving. The ground opens up around me, and I'm held down. I can't scream. All I can do is stare up at the sky as it closes up. As something grips my neck, everything disappears.

I'm not dead in a ditch. No. I know that. But I have a feeling I'm well. And truly. Fucked. They have me now. Give my father an ultimatum. And he'll always choose himself. If he held any love for me, I might not be here. Although I doubt that in the first place. He would never end up with them. He made sure of that. That's why they have me. He can drunkenly stumble into his rotting apartment and pass out. And... well. I'm now just someone's new toy. In this case. Somethings new toy.


	3. Chapter 2

**Heyy, honestly have no idea what to say :P I am very doubtful of my writing, but, hopefully someone likes it. So on with it then?**

 **Also I sadly, don't own skins or their characters.  
Oh and I thought I'd explain the last chapter if it's confusing, but to sum it up in one word. Intuition, might explore that further on, enjoy **

Everything's dark, unfamiliar. This isn't my bed… it's too fucking cold… too quite. Everything seems… still. For fucks sakes. Oh yeah… I got it now. I'm alone aren't I? Well in a sense I guess so. Abandoned… stuck. Hmm.

I lay in a bed with a quilt with the texture of steel wool. I room, with only light casting in a small window faintly lighting up the middle. It doesn't seem too small. I look down at my frail appearance, pale skin. No longer do I see my blue skinny jeans, floral top, but brown cargo pants and a dark grey shirt that's at least to sizes too big.

'Fucking hell, they took my fucking clothes too.'

I can't help notice the dryness in my voice. The pain in my side and head from my recent beating. I stare at my surroundings, I try to take in what I'm dealing with, but my gaze continuously retreats to the window. I test my feet on the ground, a little pressure and I stand. Yes! I thought, well… yes than ouch. Yup… Face planted into a wall on my right. Good one Naomi. Try using your arms this time yeah? Nearly there… there we go!

It's hopeless, it's so fucking hopeless. I'm in a fucking jail cell. Bars on the window, uncomfortable clothes. The fuck did I do for this to happen?

'Fuck… fuck… Fucking Fuck!' It still seems, extremely silent. Still. Things are so much louder… when everything else stops… When you close your eyes shut to try and escape. The wind blowing against the outside walls of where I am. The creaking of an old room. The chuckled laughter coming from the opposite side of the room. Wait… what?

Snapping my eyes open, it still seems so dark. 'I'm going fucking crazy already aren't I.' The voice comes out croaky and mumbled. My voice… My eyes however are slightly adjusting. A slight figure slumped into the corner of the room, shaking…

'Who the fuck are you?' Its head shoots up, eyes set on me at hearing my exasperated voice. And it laughs as it stands tilting its head. Slowly raising myself from the ground, the fierce stance it takes on makes me stumble backwards. It feels like minuets pass, but only seconds as one foot is set in front of the other. Then again. The slight figure, small. Shorter than me. But once it steps in front of the window, the first things I see. The only thing I see is red. Like cherries. I fall back onto the bed I once resided in as she looks at my curiously. Head slightly tilted, her chocolate eyes boring into me. She stops in front of the window, raising the left hand, extending her index finger and taps the metal bar in the window stifling a laugh.

She slightly turns towards the window. I search her face, my brows furrowed in confusion. She wears the same outfit as myself, but dirtier… older. I slowly rise to my feet to approach her, but before I know it, I'm sent to the floor. A searing pain on my right cheek, a hand wrapped around my throat.

Sometimes you'd think, when something happens so many times you'd think you'd be able to say 'I'm used to it.' Although no matter how sad that sounds, sometimes you believe it for a while. It's okay, I'm used to it. But no matter how many times you've been challenged, or struck down. You're not used to it. Sometimes it' just gets worse… more creative. Sometimes you're a punching bag. Next minuet you're an ash tray. You'd think you'd be fine after a while. You'd be okay. But the more resistant you get to the pain, the more pain that's caused. You'd think I'd be able to react quickly. But I never have… retaliated. I put up with it. I curl into myself and just wait… for the yelling to stop. For him to fall asleep. Because in the end, I'm alive. That makes it okay. Right? So I just sat back… and waited. It'd end soon, initially I thought so. But this isn't him. Obviously not. But things are drilled into your mind, and it's a reaction.

I'd be okay? No. I won't be okay. This ISN'T him. So with that thought, I drove my knee up with everything I had. And with a groan the hand wrapped around my neck lessens. I scuttle into the corner and watch from a far as she sits upright. But she doesn't move… she just stares at me… and all of a sudden the quite… still room fills with laugher. She rolls onto her back and kicks her feet up, hands clutching her stomach. Then it stops. And she sits back up and turns towards me.

As if nothing happened, she looks at me, an impassive expression on her face. And she settles back against the wall again. Minuets passed that seems like hours. But not for one seconds did I look anywhere else. Her slight snores filled the still room. So I stand. And observe her slouched form. Her soft features. How her head is resting on her shoulder giving me a view of her pale neck, the scar reaching from the base of her neck up to her ear. And only then do I notice more things about her appearance. One runs through her right eyebrow. Another from her nose to the left side of her jaw… before I realise it I've moved closer, and I can see the dirt under her nails… her roots under her cherry hair. How her clothes hang from her bony shoulders and how she looks like she hasn't been clean for weeks on end.

My gaze settles on the handle less door to my left, only for a second. My head filled with questions. I slowly bring my gaze back to the red haired girl, and I wonder. I just sit next to my bed, and I think. I'm so lost in my thoughts, so I settle my gaze on the adjacent door more the left than the other, and I move towards it. This one has a handle at least… so I open it.

A shrilling scream fills the room I've come to believe is a very small cabin. Only after a second I realise that was my scream. I was screaming. I fall to the floor, my eyes set on something inside the room. I shuffle away from the sight in front of me, my hand flying to my mouth. My back hits something hard. My body tenses up as I fell her forearm wrapping around my throat lifting me slightly to my feet, my injuries from earlier coming back with an intensity rendering me useless… and I welcome the darkness that envelops me a few moments later.

 **Ummm… honestly don't know how I feel about this… haha. More soon, hopefully :P**


	4. Chapter 3

**Okay. It's been a awhile. I don't have much motivation in me a lot of the time, and most of the time i'm reading other stories or doing other things. So I guess sorry haha? But um yeah** **.**

 _Sometimes sleep can be someone's only escape. It can be peaceful and quite if you want it too. Or loud so you don't feel so alone. You see and hear things, and it's okay. Sometimes. It can be a prison. Where you're stuck in your mind, no matter how much you run, or how much you will it to stop. You can't, you don't have control over how long, or where you go. And even though you can't run forever, you still try, because it's an instinct. You have to survive, a small chance, that as long as you're still running. You're okay. It feels real, your feet pounding on the ground, one after the other, your heartbeat in your ears. Your shallow breathing and the sweat dripping from your forehead. You're alive, so what else can you do. But run. Because… running. Is your only chance._

It's strange. The bed. The clothes. I haven't forgotten, but I don't remember. I don't want to. But I know where I am. No matter how much I deny it. And I regret leaving the uncomfortable bed in the first place. It may be itchy, and annoying. But at least if I'm still 'asleep' then I'm safe. In a way. When your eyes close. Sometimes you can focus on your other senses. The sounds around you, the slight shuffling close by, and the pine wood smell of the cabin. The sense of being watched. And you know it's the redhead watching you. She's good at being quite, but right now I don't think she wants to be. She's close, but not at all. You can feel everything around you, and in some way, you know she's thinking. A lot. You can feel lit. But you don't know what it could be she is thinking.

The shuffling stops. And she goes quite. You can hear the three quite steps she takes to arrive at your bedside, and she sits on the edge. You try to maintain your breathing, you can't move. But your curiosity is peaked. And you want to, but you're afraid to at the same time. The silence draws on and on, and yet you still haven't move. And neither has she. So… you open your eyes. And the first thing you see is brown. You feel paralysed. You didn't expect her to be so close. Or for her to move closer, her brows furrowed in confusion. And you can see in the corner of your eye as she raises her hand, and slowly, but softly and strangely enough. She pokes your face, and smiles like a 4 year old who was just promised ice cream.

She slowly moves off the bed and stands up. She doesn't look away, she tilts her head in a confused way and for the first time. She speaks. And her voice, is surprisingly husky. It's dry and she struggles with her words, as she asks me my name.

"What is my name…? Shouldn't I be asking you that!?"

I didn't entirely mean to raise my voice, seems to be a default setting in a way. But how else would one react in this situation. Nothing really makes sense. From who she is, as to why I am here. Of course I know why I'm here, that was my father's doing. But why I was put into a room with someone else. But she doesn't look like them. She just seems, different from… them.

I know I stayed silent for too long, because she's angry now. And she steps towards me again. Slowly, but with obvious intent.

"My name's Naomi! Its Naomi okay! Okay…"

She stops now, and smiles. Now a small smile people give when you do what you want. But a big grin, as if what I just said is the best thing ever. Again. Like a 4 year old she claps her hands and giggles.

"Good! Good! She Replied! She Replied! Good!" She sounds giddy but then frowns and speaks again.

"This is good yes." She mumbles it out quietly, and looks down at her feet. She continues mumbling to herself, but the more she talks, the less I can hear what she says. I noticed after a while, something was missing. I forgot something didn't I? But she's stopped now, so I leave it be. I'll figure it out later I guess. As I look up she's still staring at the floor, rocking on the heels of her feet.

"Hello?"

She slowly raises her head and stares at me and continues to speak.

"Naomi! Naomi… She has a name. I have a name? What is my name?…"

The redhead continues to rock on the heels of her feet. "What is my name?. No. I do ave a name. I do. I have." This time she didn't get quieter, she got louder. And louder. Her hands in her hair as she paces back and forth in the room. But before long she stops. She smiles brightly. I know it's wise not to speak, so I just watch silently. Sitting up silently, raising my knees to my chest as I rst against the wall on the bed.

She slowly points to herself. Then points at me. Then to herself again. Then to me.

"You Naomi."

She looks at me expectantly as if waiting for me to confirm what she is saying or correct her. So I just slowly nod, as to not anger her. Then she points to herself again.

"And. I Emly." She smiles brightly again and chews her thumbs as she thinks. It's silent again. She's silent again.

She slowly turns towards the handless door. Takes a few steps back. And sits down. And does nothing else more…

 _A common phrase many may have heard. One that is actually very true. But incredibly scary depending on the situation in what that phrased is used for. The implication that nothing is truly going to be okay. Although it may seem that way._

 _Ever noticed how the eye of a tornado is calm. But why is that so? It says that 'Any vortex has "calm' winds at the centre of rotation.' But even so, the "calm" air inside the tornado is actually moving with the speed at which the vortex as a whole is moving. If you were to walk forwards. You would be swept away from the winds of tornado. Everything outside is chaos. Whilst inside its okay. It's better than out there._

 _Both these things correlate with each other. One can be a feeling. The other is the proof, that what you're feeling is right. And so the phrase that is said is 'There's always a calm. Before the Storm.' How may they correlate? Well. Right now even though it may not seem. It's calm. This cabin. It's safer than it would be leaving its walls. But how would I know. I wouldn't. But when someone opens the door to the cabin, it's like you're being dragged to the edge. And then… you're thrown into the storm._


End file.
